I'm Not Dead, Let's Have Dinner
by Dez10d2Rite
Summary: Rowan Watson had moved to America for college, leaving behind her brother and sister. But what happens when a mysterious man gets a hold of her, nearly killing her, and the man who rescues her only saying that he 'is the British Government.' She moves back to London, hoping that being with her brother again will make things better, that is, until she meets his flatmate.


Once my plane landed in London airport I knew I needed to head straight for his flat before I managed to talk myself out of my whole plan. It had been ages since I had seen him and I had planned on surprising him. Although, being an army doctor he was hard to surprise most of the time.

Grabbing the one small bag that I had I pulled out one of the letters that John had sent me, telling me where he was living now. In that letter he had told me about his new flatmate who was now becoming his best friend. He would tell me all about the crimes they would solve and I made sure to always check my brother's blog.

Hailing a cab I told him to take me to Baker Street as fast as possible. I knew it was about early afternoon and knew my brother would be awake. If it was me I would be snoozing away, not a care in the world towards the time, with my blankets pushed halfway onto the floor, my long ringlet curly hair in a mess sprawled over my pillow.

I smiled to myself thinking about what that probably looked like. I also smiled as we pulled up to a sidewalk in front of a small café, paid the cabby and quickly got out. Now that I was actually here things started getting real and I was starting to get nervous. Maybe I should have told him I was coming, what if they were on a case, what if this was all a bad idea. Quickly I tried shoving those thoughts to the back of my mind, and took a breath, it had been so long since I had seen him.

Finally plucking up the courage to knock on the door I walked up to the door, knocking once or twice. Waiting and hearing someone behind the door the door finally opened and to my surprise it wasn't John.

"Hello deary, how can I help you?" an elderly lady asked. By the process of elimination I assumed the lady was my brothers landlady he always wrote so fondly about, Mrs. Hudson.

"Hi, is John Watson in?" I asked as I readjusted my bag on my shoulder, "He doesn't know I am here to see him. I'm his sister, Rowan, I wanted to surprise him." Informing me that he had just left to go to the shops Mrs. Hudson let me inside and told me I could wait for him upstairs.

"I didn't know John had another sister," she said as I walked in behind her.

"I was in America," I explained as we made our way up a flight of stairs. Mrs. Hudson didn't pry anymore than that as we reached the landing at the top of the stairs. The door stood open as well as the door leading into the kitchen. Peeking through it quickly as I walked by I saw several different types of scientific equipment and I knew from John letters that that was probably all Sherlock's.

"Sherlock deary, this is Rowan," Mrs. Hudson started but was interrupted.

"John's sister, yes I know," he said not even looking up from the laptop screen in front of him, "Sound travels an unfortunate distant from the bottom of the stairs." Mrs. Hudson huffed and told me I was more than welcome to stay up there and wait for John to get back.

Walking in and taking a quick glance around the flat taking in as much as I could, I found my way to a chair that sat just before the entrance into the kitchen.

"Is that a friend of yours?" I asked as I noticed a skull on the mantle above the fireplace. Turning around to the skull in question then to me he looked me over and I knew what he was doing.

"I see you and John both are fond of the distasteful jumpers," he said turning back around to his laptop, me looking down at my outfit, "One of the few things you have in common with him despite being adopted." I immediately looked back up at him. I wasn't hurt, more intrigued.

"John must have told you," I said.

"Nope," he said popping the last syllable, "I observed." John had told me what he did when they first meet when Sherlock figured out all the things about Harry and John just by looking at his cell phone.

"Well, go on then," I said leaning forward slightly rested my chin in my hand. Sherlock slowly turned to me and had a confused look. I could tell people don't ask him that often.

"Well," he started jumping up from the computer and walking over to sit in the seat across from me.

"You have freckles," he started, "A recessive trait only shows itself in families who have the dominant gene for it, I've seen pictures of John's family and none of them have it. As well as the red hair. While it is possible for a child to have a hair color different than both parents it is unlikely for a person in question to have red hair when the whole family has brown hair. Last but not least your age, your I'd say…" he stopped, scanning over me one last time, "twenty-five. Meaning based on his parents age now they would be at least 41 when you were born. Chances of pregnancy at that age is only 1-5%. Need I go on?" He sat there in the chair across from me staring at me, his hands clasped together under his chin. Before I could answer we heard the door open and Sherlock stood and walked back over to the laptop he was at earlier.

"Don't mind me, I can manage," I heard my brother say, irritation dripping from every word. He had both hands full of bags from the shops, walking into the kitchen from the hallway, still not realizing that I was there. Sherlock turned and looked at me momentarily then glanced at my brother. He smirked knowing John still hadn't realized anything was out of the ordinary.

"John, are you just going to ignore our guest?" Sherlock said turning back to the laptop.

"Guest, what?" John asked confused as he walked into the living room standing next to the chair I was in. He turned facing me as I stood to give him a hug.

"Rowan," John said with a smile as he returned my hug tightly, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I finished school," I said as John crossed his arms listening to me, "And wanted to take some time and come home, see you, like a vacation before I settle down to a boring job." I gave John my best smile as he was about to say something then turned around to look at his roommate.

"Wait a minute is that my computer?" he asked turning to give his full attention to Sherlock.

"Of course," Sherlock said as he started to furiously type on the keyboard, "Mine was in the bedroom."

"And you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John asked, irritation evident in his tone, "It's password protected."

"In a manner of speaking, took me less than a minute to guess yours," Sherlock said as he turned to look at my brother, "Not exactly Fort Knox." I laughed as Sherlock continued to type away, oblivious to my brothers fury.

"If he's anything like when we were younger he used the same password for everything that he tried to keep from me," I said laughing as I sat back down as John made his way across the room to take his computer back. Sherlock sat there momentarily staring at the empty space where the laptop used to be before he turned and looked at me again. I only shrugged my shoulders not knowing how to make the situation better.

John came over to the chair I was sitting in, setting his laptop on the floor and tapping my leg. He always did that when he wanted me to move from where I was sitting since we were kids. Usually only when I sat in his 'spot.' Getting up, I walked over to the chair that was sitting straight across from him and behind Sherlock. My brother picked up some mail from the table next to him huffing as he looked through them. I knew it couldn't have been good and I assumed it was about money. I knew he didn't have a job or if they had any sort of income.

"I need to get a job," John said after setting the mail down again. Sherlock never moved from his spot at his desk.

"Dull," he said quietly barely audible enough for me to hear him. John was about to say something when he noticed Sherlock wasn't even listening to him.

"Sherlock, are you listening?" John said as he turned to me irritated then back to Sherlock.

"I need to go to the bank," Sherlock said so suddenly and quickly jumping from his chair that it slightly startled me. John and I turned to look at each other, me silently asking if I could tag along. We had always been able to tell what the other was thinking just by a single look since we were younger. We quickly followed after Sherlock, both of us jumping up, John grabbing his jacket before following him out to the sidewalk for a cab.

Sherlock was quick to hail a cab as we all piled into it. Sherlock was on the far side with John in the middle of us. The ride was silent as I looked out the window watching London pass by me. It had been so long since I was here that it looked very different. It wasn't much longer until we were standing in front of Shad Sanderson. It was the biggest bank I had ever seen much less had ever walked into. Once we got out of the cab we were walking up the sidewalk to the front doors when Sherlock stopped and looked around.

"Why are you here?" he asked as he looked at me, confusion in his voice.

"I told her she could come with us," John said coming to my rescue, "She was in the cab with us. Are you just now realizing she is here?" Sherlock turned back around very visibly confused as to why I was there.

"I didn't notice," he said seeming like he was trying to convince himself more than us, "I was thinking." Without another word Sherlock turned on his heels and quickly continued on his way up the stairs, pushing his way through the rotating doors. John held his hand out for me letting me go in first with him right behind me. Being as short as I was I had to almost run to keep up with Sherlock's long legs, catching up to him as he stepped onto the escalator.

I was looking around taking in everything that I could. I had never been in a bank this big let alone a building this big. Everything was so sleek and I could hear beeping from key cards and keys from computers being tapped on. I almost tripped once I came to the top of the escalator, not paying attention, Sherlock slightly turning to look at me from the corner of his eye. Once I regained my stance he turned back around walking straight to the counter, John standing on his left, me to his right.

"Sherlock Holmes," he said with a slight smile as the clerk behind the counter nodded her head, moving from her computer to her phone now.

"Sir, Mr. Holmes and his colleagues are here to see you," she said sweetly into the phone. Colleague, that was something I had never been called before but I instantly liked it. The woman behind the counter told us that whoever we were here to meet was ready to see us and told us what floor. We all piled into an elevator and made the ride in silence. Now that I had the chance to look at my reflection in the elevator mirror I realized I was severely under dressed to be in a building like this. My neutral brown sweater and my acid washed jeans stood out severally against the dark colors Sherlock and my brother were wearing, although I did just fly seven hours.

The beeping and opening of the doors quickly pulled me from my thoughts as I followed Sherlock and my brother once more, Sherlock seeming to know exactly where we were going. Quickly finding the secretary he was looking for she showed us the office of a man named Sebastian. He had apparently emailed Sherlock earlier in the day saying that he needed to speak with him urgently. We stood in his office waiting for him for a moment but long enough for me to snoop around his office slightly, looking over his desk and out his window. Never being a fan of heights however I quickly took a few steps back once I realized just how high up we were.

"Sherlock Holmes," I heard a man say as he entered the room, the man I assumed was Sebastian.

"Sebastian," Sherlock said confirming my assumptions as they shook hands.

"Hiya, buddy. How long has it been, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian said, I could tell he was trying to lay it on thick for Sherlock. Something seemed off about their meeting, the guy kind of gave me the creeps.

"These are my friends, John and Rowan Watson," Sherlock said seeming like he tried to impress the guy. If there was anything I picked up from college and reading about Sherlock it was how to read people.

"Friends?" Sebastian said in almost disbelief.

"Colleague," John said correcting them as he shook hands with the shady man in front of us. I quickly made my way in-between Sherlock and my brother offering my hand for Sebastian to shake, making sure they knew I was still here too.

"Friend," I said making sure that Sebastian knew I was Sherlock's friend, nothing less. I could tell Sherlock was trying to show off for this guy so I was going to play along. However, I regretted offering my hand for Sebastian to shake when he decided to kiss my hand slightly making the situation awkward. I could tell the boys around me could feel me tense under Sebastian's gesture. Both of them stepped closer to me as the man in front of me turned to walk back to his desk.

"Grab a pew," Sebastian said as the three of us sat, me still in the center, "Anyone need anything?" We all shook our heads as we sat, Sebastian waving his assistant away with a thanks.

"Looks like you're doing well, been abroad a lot," Sherlock started, Sebastian looking at him intrigued, waiting for him to continue, "Flying all the way around the world twice in a month?" I turned and looked from Sherlock to Sebastian to see how he would react. Not at all to my surprise he was rude about it.

"You're doing that thing," he started, "We were at uny together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick," I said defending Sherlock. I hadn't known him long but even just from John's letters it was like I knew him for a long time, at least long enough to come to his aid when someone was being a dick.

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story," Sebastian only continues his tirade, "Put the wind up everybody, we hated him. We'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night." I was getting fed up with this guy. I could see Sherlock visibly shrink in the seat next to me as Sebastian continued to talk about how much he hated him. I wanted to say something to the jerk but I knew that wasn't my place, I needed to butt out. That had always been a problem I had, not keeping my mouth shut when I needed to.

"I simply observed," Sherlock said almost defeated. I felt bad for him, being bullied right here in front of my brother and me.

"Go on, enlighten me," Sebastian continued, "You're quite right, flying around the world twice in a month. How could you tell? Are you going to tell me there is a stain on my tie…" I began to drown this guy out not caring what he had to say anymore.

"I was just chatting with your secretary outside," I heard Sherlock say. I had to hold back the laugh that wanted to bust through as Sherlock lied. However my laughter was quickly abandoned as Sebastian started laughing rather loudly and rather uncomfortably.

"I'm glad you could make it over, we've had a break-in," Sebastian said as he stood, us following him out of his office.

Being the back of the line as we walked through the office floor I couldn't hear what was being said in front of me. Even if I could hear I was too busy looking around to pay attention. It was fascinating to watch everyone bustle around about their day.

"Rowan, keep up," I heard John say to me as he hollered for me as they disappeared into another office.

Walking into the office the first thing I noticed was the almost life size painting of a man with a bright yellow slash through the man's eyes, along with another symbol on the wall next to it. I slowly walked in, standing to Sherlock's right as the others piled into his left. All I could do was stand there in awe, trying to rack my brain on what the hell it could mean. Looking up at Sherlock I noticed how focused he looked as he also tried to figure out what the symbols meant.

"Sixty seconds apart," Sebastian said as he walked over to the desk in the computer there, pulling up the security cameras. Following Sherlock and my brother around the desk I peaked around Sherlock's arm, although with him being an entire foot taller than me, it was a little difficult.

"So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute," Sebastian informed us. This case was getting more and more interesting by the minute. Whoever had broken in managed to get in and out and spray paint in sixty seconds!

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked quickly trying to work it out already, and I knew he probably already had several ideas.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting," Sebastian warned. Without another word he walked out of the room, Sherlock hot on his heels. John and I looked at each other as the two of us hurried to catch up.

…..

"Every door that opens in this building gets logged right here," Sebastian said as he bent down to pull up another screen on the computer in front of us, "Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"And that door didn't open last night?" Sherlock asked as I saw his wheels turning at high speed, although with him I doubted there was anything less than that.

"There is a whole in our security, find it and we will pay you," Sebastian said as he turned to Sherlock with a smile on his face, thinking that that would be enough to woo him.

"I don't _need_ an incentive, Sebastian," Sherlock said as he eyed the man in front of him. Standing behind Sherlock I saw the temporary shock cross Sebastian's face before Sherlock turned and walked away, back up to the elevators.

Looking to my brother with a smile on my face I quickly made my way past the two men standing in front of me and followed after Sherlock.

…..

"Why are you following me?" Sherlock asked as we made our way into the elevator alone. He was standing straight, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked at me in the reflection of the elevator door.

"I was curious what you are thinking," I said as I imitated his stance getting an eye roll from him. I smiled at his annoyance as the door opened, him quickly walking back to the same office from earlier. As we looked around nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, other than the paint on the wall. Sherlock was taking pictures as he walked slowly around the room, oblivious that I was still there. I watched him turn circles before turning to the desk as I reached out to touch the computer keyboard.

"Don't touch anything," he said barely audible enough for me to hear. I took a step back, holding up my hands in defense as I turned and looked out the window. As I was looking over London that was when I realized the window had a handle on it.

"Sebastian said every door that opens gets logged into the computer," I said as I turned to look at Sherlock who was still walking around the room, " What if it wasn't the door that opened, but the window?" Almost immediately Sherlock came to a stop and turned to look at me. It was like a light bulb went off in his head as he crossed the room to stand next to me. Looking from me to the window he opened it to the small balcony just outside. As I followed behind him, the wind whipped through my hair with force as it smacked me in the face, curls getting stuck in my Chapstick. As the two of us looked around I doubted that anyone could have scaled the building just to break into an office, not even taking anything with them. Sherlock looked around as well, leaning slightly over the edge as he deduced what could have happened.

Without warning, Sherlock turned and quickly went back inside. I was quick to follow him, shutting the glass door behind myself, jogging to keep up with him. Once I made it out of the office, I couldn't find Sherlock, thinking maybe he had gone down the elevator without me. As I made my way over to the elevator I was cut short by Sherlock popping out from behind a computer. Yelping and jumping slightly I managed to grab the attention of the whole office.

"Sherlock," I yelled in a hushed tone, "You scared the bloody hell out of me." He only looked at me confused for a minute before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me in front of him.

"I need your height, can you see the yellow paint from here?" he asked as he stood behind me, hands resting on my shoulders. I was too shocked, unable to process what was going on in this short amount of time that he gave me to answer.

"Ummm," I said shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders, "No, not really."

"Well what is it? No, or not really?" Sherlock asked with irritation in his voice.

"No," I decided on as he violently pulled me around the office with him, asking the same question again every time we stopped. As we made our way around the office Sherlock was bobbing and darting around as he pulled me around with him. Everyone was watching us, getting weird looks and glares, Sherlock didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't seem to care.

"Sherlock, will you stop," I said as he pulled me into another office with him. He finally let me go as he darted behind the desk as I finally caught a glimpse of the yellow paint, "Wait, come back!" This time I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to where I was standing, showing him what I saw. Looking down to me Sherlock smirked before he turned, scanning the room for any evidence as to whose office it was.

As we walked out the door Sherlock grabbed the name tag from the frame on the door that read: 'Edward Vann Coon.' As we made our way to the elevators, Sherlock had a little pep in his step, causing me to nearly run to keep up.

As we stood in silence I mindlessly picked at my nail polish, thinking over the day's events. I hadn't been in London for more than a few hours, I could only imagine what my brother went through on a daily basis living with Sherlock everyday.

"Thank you," Sherlock said quietly pulling me from my thoughts, looking up at him he was looking to the floor, obviously not used to saying this, "For the help today."

"You're very welcome Sherlock," I said with a smile as the elevator dinged, the doors opening to reveal my brother standing there. I turned to look at him, a confused look on his face for a second before taking a deep breath motioning us to follow him.

As we all walked through the building towards the doors I brought up the end of the line, my short legs struggling to keep up even just with John, he had seemed to adapt with Sherlock's speed.

"So, two trips around the world, twice in a month," John said as I finally jogged to catch up with at least him, "You didn't talk to the secretary."

"He only said that to irritate him, and rightfully so," I said as I crossed my arms across my chest, "He was a jerk, but how did you know?" I looked up at Sherlock seeing a smile creep to his face as he thought back on it.

"Did you see his watch?" Sherlock asked as he glanced back to us for a moment.

"His watch?" John and I asked in unison, we were both just as amazed as the other.

"Yes, the time was right but the date was wrong, set for two days ago, indicating…" Sherlock started, looking to me to finish his thought.

"Indicating….he...crossed the dateline twice and didn't fix it," I said with confidence by the end of my statement.

"Correct," Sherlock said as we finally made it to the stairs.

"Ok, not sure what just happened there, but how did you know it was in the last month?" John asked as he looked from me to Sherlock, his eyes coming back to rest on me. I only shrugged my shoulders not having an answer for him.

"New Breitling, only came in, in February," Sherlock answered. I could only shake my head at the man and the way he saw the world, I couldn't imagine what it was like inside his brain.

"Right, well do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked as we made it to the escalators once again.

"No, I already know everything, thanks," Sherlock said nonchalantly, "The graffiti was a message. Someone on the trading floor, we find the recipient and…" Sherlock this time looking over to my brother.

"They'll lead us to the person who sent it," John said with some hesitate at first but soon knew he was right.

"Obviously," Sherlock said, already getting irritated by the many questions John kept asking him.

"Well, 300 people up there, who was it meant for?" John asked, thinking he had managed to stump Sherlock, however, I knew that was wrong,

"Pillars," Sherlock said, John looked confused at him again, "The pillars and computer screens, very few places you could see that graffiti from, narrowing the field considerably. Traders come in at all hours of the night, trading with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was meant for someone coming in at that time. Not many Vann Coon's in the phone book." As we finally made it outside Sherlock was quick to hail us a cab, one stopping just in front of us all. Sherlock made it a point to push past both John and myself, climbing into the back seat first. John only huffed and rolled his eyes, knowing no matter how hard he tried, Sherlock wouldn't listen to him about manners. John tried to make up for it however, holding open the door for me, allowing me to slide in next to Sherlock.

As we rode in the cab it was a silent ride, John watching the scenery as it passed, Sherlock staring out the window blankly. I only assumed he was 'thinking' and wondered what was going on inside his head. I sighed deeply, bored of the silence. John only ignored me as Sherlock turned to me, irritation plastered to his face as the cab finally came to a stop in front of a newly built building.

"This is where Vann Coon lived?" I asked as I looked up at the tall buildings. We all three stood on the sidewalk for a moment before walking the distance up the stairs to the front door. As we made it to the door Sherlock went straight for the buzzer pad, easily finding Vann Coon's name, pressing the button several times, no one answering the call.

"Maybe he isn't home?" I asked standing between John and Sherlock, looking from one to the other.

"What do we do now? Wait for him to come back?" John asked as Sherlock took a step back, thinking of his next move.

"Just moved in," he said as he stepped back to the call pad, John and I only looked from each other back to Sherlock, equally as confused, "Floor above, new label."

"They could have just replaced it," John said shoving his hands into his pockets, obviously getting cold and ready to go.

"No one does that," Sherlock said as he pushed the new button, waiting for someone to answer, and to John's surprise, a woman answered.

"Hello?" she said through the speaker.

"Hi, I live in the flat just below you, I don't think we've met," Sherlock said putting on a thick act. I was surprised how fast he was able to turn it on and off, with just a look almost.

"Well, actually I just moved in," the woman said over the speaker, Sherlock could tell she was starting to become a little hesitant. He turned to John to give him an 'I told you so' look as he grabbed my arm once again, pulling me close enough to him to be seen in the lens of the little camera on the call pad.

"Actually, my girlfriend and I just locked our keys in our flat," Sherlock said making up a story as quick as he could. I couldn't help but stare at him for a second before realizing that I needed to play along as well.

"Well dear, if you weren't hurrying me along," I joked, trying to lay it on as thick as he was. I put my arm around his waist, resting my hand on him just under his chest, giving the camera in front of us the biggest smile I could. I could feel Sherlock tense under my hand, uncomfortable now.

"Oh, do you want me to buzz you in?" the woman asked through the speaker again. I smiled at the camera as Sherlock decided to take over again.

"Yea," Sherlock said with a big smile as he let me go, almost pushing me off to the side now that he got what he needed, "And can we use your balcony?"

…

Now that we were inside the building John and I followed Sherlock all the way to the elevators before any of us said anything.

"So, why was I your girlfriend?" I asked turning to Sherlock at my left, John at my right turning to him as well.

"She was hesitant to let a man into the building, I knew she would be more willing if I played her on your innocence. A woman is more likely to trust another woman over a man," he explained. It made enough sense thinking back on it now. I nodded my head as the elevator dinged, the three of us heading down the hallway. Sherlock headed for the woman's flat that we had talked to as John and I headed to Vann Coon's. Watching as the woman let him in without a question I turned back to the door, crossing my arms.

"So, this is what it's like living with Sherlock?" I asked turning to my brother giving him a smirk. He smiled as he looked down to the ground laughing slightly to himself.

"It's never dull that's for sure," John said as we heard Sherlock inside the flat now, "But I am glad you're home." I was about to say something when all of a sudden we heard a loud crash come from inside Vann Coon's flat.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" I yelled as John tried banging on the door, desperately trying to open it. We were answered with only silence, our imagination filling in when Sherlock ignored us.

"Anytime you feel like letting us in," John said irritated that Sherlock continued to ignore us.

Moments later the front door flew open, Sherlock turning and walking back into the flat, trusting that John and I were following.

As we walked through the flat behind him he lead us into the bedroom, Vann Coon's body lying across the bed.

"Shouldn't we call someone?" I asked as I stopped in the doorway, Sherlock and John walking over to the bed. John being the army doctor he was, a dead body was nothing to him, Sherlock almost seeming giddy.

"Already did," Sherlock said as he pulled out a small magnifying glass. I took a deep breath as I finally mustered up the courage to join the boys. Walking around the bed and looking down to the body John turned and looked at me.

"Rowan, if you want you can wait outside," he said as he noticed me looking down to Vann Coon. I stood next to Sherlock with my arms crossed over my chest, making sure that I didn't touch anything I wasn't supposed to. Sherlock turned and looked at me waiting for me to answer.

"No, I want to help," I said as I turned and looked at Sherlock as well, a new confidence taking over after the initial shock, "I took some medical and criminology classes in school in America. Even managed to sneak into classes I wasn't supposed to be in." John only chuckled to himself as he went back to looking around the room.

It wasn't much longer until we heard the front door open, the police quickly piling in. I stood off against the wall with John, the both of us watching as they got everything in place that they needed, Sherlock bossing several men around.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, finally getting fed up with the amount of intelligence, or lack thereof, in the room, telling most of the men to leave as he took off his coat and scarf, throwing them both at me. I barely had time to react before his scarf hit me in the face, his coat not far behind it. I groaned as I caught his coat, it being so heavy it nearly took me to the ground. Quickly recovering I slung his coat over my arm, it still almost so long it touched the ground, throwing his scarf over the top of it.

"So do you think he lost a lot of money?" John asked as he huffed and crossed his arms, walking back over to the bed where Sherlock stood, "I mean suicide is common among city boys."

"I'm not convinced it was suicide," I said stepping up to join the boys, reminding them that I was more than just a coat rack.

"Oh come on," John said turning to me giving me a smile, him thinking I was joking.

"She's right," Sherlock said as he turned and headed for the open suitcase against the wall. John and I both turned to Sherlock, John looking at him like he had just sprouted wings.

"I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood you, did you just agree with my sister?" John asked. Sherlock turned to look at John before crouching down to the floor.

"Yes, she has only been on this case with us for," Sherlock paused for a moment looking at his watch, "Three hours and she's already considerably smarter than you." I turned and looked at John with a big smile on my face as he stood there dumbfounded.

"But the door was locked from the inside, you had to climb in the balcony," John said pointing a finger down to Sherlock who was rummaging through Vann Coon's suitcase. Sherlock was mumbling to himself now about how long Vann Coon had been gone, deciding on ignoring my brother.

"Look at the case, something was tightly packed in," Sherlock said standing. Now it was John's turn to ignore Sherlock, huffing and looking back to the dead body in front of him, "Problem?"

"Just not desperate to root around another man's dirty underwear," John said continuing to pout. I decided I didn't want to have a part in their domestic fight anymore and walked out into the living room. Looking around there were several men in full body suits taking samples and pictures. Still holding onto Sherlock's coat and scarf I made my way over to the balcony he had jumped into earlier. Realizing just how high up we were I decided it would be best to not open the door and just stay inside where I was safe.

As I walked around continuing to look I saw several things that didn't quite add up, several things pointed to Vann Coon being left handed but if I remember correctly he was shot on the right side of his head. However, before I could think much more about anything the door came open, a man walking through that looked very important and not very nice. He was quick to tell everyone what to do, not even realizing that I was standing there in the middle of his crime scene. As he marched passed me and into the bedroom I knew it wasn't going to be pretty when he found Sherlock in there rummaging around. I looked over to the man in the body suit who was dusting for prints on a side table as he looked up at me, he was about to say something when the DI and Sherlock came walking out of the bedroom, John not far behind them.

"We are obviously looking at a suicide," the DI said as he handed off the evidence bag he was holding.

"That does seem to be the only explanation of all the facts," John said as he followed the two of the other out into the living room now. I turned and looked at him, shaking my head. I knew that wasn't right, too many things didn't add up.

"Wrong, it's only one possible explanation of some of the facts," Sherlock said as he started pacing between the two men standing on either side of him, "You've got a solution you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything that doesn't comply with it."

"Like?" the DI asked, his hands on his hips now, visibly angry that Sherlock was showing him up.

"The wound was on the right side of his head," Sherlock announced.

"So," the DI said crossing his arms now, still staring at Sherlock, almost waiting for him to mess up.

"Vann Coon was left headed," I announced, throwing in my opinion as well. Sherlock was right, it wasn't a suicide. All three men stopped and stared at me, John and the DI in shock. Sherlock looked at me almost with a smile, happy I was defending him.

"That does require some bit of contortion," Sherlock said adding onto my statement as he tried to demonstrate what that would have been like.

"Left handed?" the DI asked almost astonished that Sherlock and I would know something like that about a dead man.

"I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat, coffee table on the left-hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left, power sockets, habitually used the one's on the left, pen and paper on the left hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. Do you want me to go on?" Sherlock asked sarcastically finally taking a deep breath as he finished his sentence.

"No I think you've about covered it all," John said almost like he was embarrassed by Sherlock's outburst.

"Oh, I might as well I'm almost at the bottom of the list, there's a knife on the bread board with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left, it's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion," Sherlock continued. Reaching the end of his run on sentence he snapped his fingers and pointed at me, waiting for me to finish his train of thought.

"Someone broke in here and murdered him," I said as a matter of factly. John and the DI both turned to look at me before turning back to Sherlock. I could tell by John's reaction he wasn't expecting me to hit it off so well with Sherlock so quickly. In his letters he always told me how off putting Sherlock was, I made it a point to do what I could to stay on his good side for as long as I could.

"Only explanation of all the facts," Sherlock said as he came to a stop from pacing back and forth.

"But the gun?" the DI asked, still not fully convinced that Sherlock was right. Sherlock stepped across the living room, standing next to me now, grabbing his scarf as he threw it on.

"He was waiting for the killer," Sherlock said, getting tired of going back and forth with the man. If he would only see that Sherlock was right it would have been over a long time ago.

"At the bank today," John said recounting the day's events, "There was a sort of message."

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in," Sherlock said as he threw on his jacket now, huffing as he got comfortable as he was about to turn and make his way through the front door.

"And what about the bullet?" The DI now had his hands on his hips, staring at Sherlock in disbelief.

"Went through the open window," I said as I clasped my hands in front of me, the weight of Sherlock's coat and scarf no longer there.

"Oh come on," The DI and my brother both said, neither one of them believing a word I was saying except Sherlock, "What are the chances of that?"

"Wait until you get the ballistics report back, a bullet in his head won't match his gun, guarantee it," Sherlock put on his gloves from his pocket, he was ready to leave, the man he was talking to grating his nerves to the bone.

"But if his room was locked from the inside, how did his attacker get in?" the DI asked finally getting to what we were talking about now, there was no way this just happened to be a suicide.

"Ah, now you're asking the _right_ questions," Sherlock said with almost a smile and a twinkle in his eye that he was on another murder case, one that seemed to raise more questions than answering any.


End file.
